


a moth to a flame

by rivernyx (orphan_account)



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 09:32:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rivernyx
Summary: hongbin's the only person in this godforsaken school whom taekwoon wants to talk to; hongbin doesn't want taekwoon to talk to him at all.





	a moth to a flame

**Author's Note:**

> i rarely ever write from taekwoon's point of view so. i'm sorry if this is a little, idk, sloppy hahaha. that aside, i hope you enjoy it. that's all ^^

 The hallways are cold. Unwelcoming. Nearly hostile. The walls are an impersonal bland cream color, and the tiles are just the same. They're shiny and boring to look at, dull even under the shining lights overhead.

 Taekwoon's walking in small steps, his fingers wrapped around the straps of his backpack, his eyes trained on his feet. One dirt-stained sneaker goes in front of the other; left and right, and then left and right again. He's got no idea where the principal's office is, just going wherever, and it should be fine for now since he still has around thirty minutes to spare, but-

 It's suffocating in this place, even if it's vast and mostly empty of any students for now. Taekwoon's glad there aren't a lot of people yet, at least. He doesn't know if he can bear it, walking into a new school, an entirely new environment, when it's full of people. Loud, annoying, and bothersome.

 He quickly digs up the school map that his sister had given him put of his pocket. It's already crumpled beyond saving at this point, and he has to squint to really see what's written on it, and even then it's giving him a headache. He simply doesn't understand.

 Taekwoon sighs and folds it again, stuffing it back in his pocket and looking around. Surely, there must be someone he can ask here. A janitor. A teacher. Someone.

 No one. No one he'd bothered to talk to, anyway; everyone he'd seen so far (and how few they'd been) had either been either busy, or in a hurry, or far too tired and cranky for Taekwoon to even consider approaching.

 So Taekwoon keeps wandering the hallways, growing tired with each step. He's tired. He wants to go home now. Can he please go home now? He frowns when he realizes that he can't even find his way back out. He stops for a moment to just stare at the ceiling and groan, running his hands through his hair.

 He hates moving schools.

 He shakes his head  and regains his composure again, looking at- wherever he is right now. Some kind of lobby. There's a kid sitting on a stair step, and Taekwoon thinks, 'Finally, someone to fucking ask,' because nobody else seems to go to school this fucking early.

 The kid is ducking down, hunched over something. An old, beaten camera. He's smiling slightly, and Taekwoon can see the little dimples digging deeply into his cheeks, can see him pressing the _next_ button every few seconds, and Taekwoon really wouldn't disturb him but he's really growing desperate at this point.

 "Excuse me," Taekwoon says, internally wincing at how soft his voice is, something he's always hated since it was such a stark contrast to his physique. Yet another reason why he doesn't talk to people much. The other boy doesn't hear him at first, far too engrossed in whatever it is he's looking at, and Taekwoon clears his throat and repeats, in a louder voice, "Excuse me."

 The boy's head- he doesn't look much younger than Taekwoon. Probably around his age- whips up suddenly, eyes wide and smile falling off his face. "Me?" he asks, unsure, and his voice is small. Really small.

 "Yes," Taekwoon says, and the boy quickly stands and shakes his head, dusting off his pants and shirt almost desperately. He seems panicked, somehow, and Taekwoon can't help but be a little concerned. He furrows his eyebrows together, watches as the kid stuffs his camera inside a little duffel bag, "Are you alright-"

 "No," the kid says, far too quickly, and Taekwoon has to double take, mildly shocked at the sudden outburst. "I'm sorry, please don't talk to me, it's not good for yo-"

 "Can you at least tell me where the Principal's Office is?" Taekwoon says. He can feel a slight bit of annoyance slowly welling up inside him, because here he is, asking for help so nicely, and this kid just straight up refuses him.

 "Down that way," the stranger says, hastily pointing at a hallway, "Then take a left. Please don't talk to me anymore. I'm sorry."

 Then he runs up the stairs, leaving Taekwoon staring dumbly in his wake.

 "Okay," he says to himself.

 

 

 One of the things Taekwoon hates about being a transferee is that he needs to stand in front of the class  and introduce himself. The principal is right beside him, and at least Principal Hwang helps a little, tries his best to make this comfortable for Taekwoon. His classmates all stare at him, though, their eyes calculating and speculating, trying to weigh him on a weighing scale that measures in worth.

 "Jung Taekwoon," he says curtly, voice soft as always, posture stiff and face blank. He tries to think of something to say, but ends up with none, so he just bows and says, "Please take care of me,"

 The students all chorus, "Welcome, Taekwoon," in such a bored and robotic manner that Taekwoon has to cringe, and the teacher gestures to a chair. "You can sit there," she tells him in a sweet, kind voice, her eyes just as warm as her smile. Taekwoon nods and picks up his bag from the floor, carrying it over to his newly appointed seat. It's going to suck, adjusting to a new environment in the middle of a semester, but Taekwoon will just have to suck it up.

 He sits down, and he's about to take a notebook from his bag when something- someone- pokes at his back with the blunt end of a pen. He has half a mind to ignore it, but then he's being poked again, and he swivels around.

 It's- a boy. His hair's dyed brown (but a blonde-ish type of brown, if that makes sense. Taekwoon doesn't quite know the exact name for it), and his lips are stretched into a bright, big smile, and his nose- well, his nose is tall and sharp and nothing like any nose Taekwoon has ever seen before. It should look weird, Taekwoon thinks, but it kind of suits him.

 "I'm Lee Jaehwan!" he says in a whisper-shout, and Taekwoon blinks, unsure of what to do with this information. In the end, he merely nods before going back to face the board, and he can feel the pen pressing against his back again. He ignores it but Jaehwan persists, so Taekwoon, remembering exactly why he hates people, turns around, trying not to show his irritation.

 Jaehwan smiles sheepishly, "Would you mind changing seats? I can't see and I left my glasses at home so-"

 "I don't," Taekwoon quickly says. Hopefully this means he'll have some peace. Jaehwan beams and not-so-discreetly slides out of his chair and swaps with Taekwoon, and if the teacher hears the blatant screeching sound of metal chair legs dragging across the floor she doesn't mention it.

 Finally- _finally_ \- Taekwoon can write down whatever the teacher is saying and writing on the chalkboard. He spreads his notebook open across his desk and uncaps his pen, ready to write when- nothing comes out. He hisses a curse under his breath and puts the cap back on, looking around for someone to borrow from. Someone who definitely isn't Jaehwan.

 Taekwoon turns to his left, at the male student sitting next to the window, tapping the rear end of his pen against the wooden top of his desk at a one-eighth measure. He's looking out the window, and the back of his head is all Taekwoon can really see. Taekwoon reaches over, really hating that he has to do it, and touches him lightly. The student winces and nearly jumps in his seat, turning his head  so he can see who'd alarmed him so much, and Taekwoon's eyes widen when he sees that it's the boy from earlier.

 "Do you have a pen I could borrow?" Taekwoon mouths, and the stranger shakes his head before breaking eye contact completely, focusing solely on the teacher. Taekwoon's pride stings a little, and he decides he'll have to have a confrontation about this later. At lunch. He just has to live through this hell first.

 Taekwoon sighs. He'll have to resort to asking Jaehwan, then.

 

 

 Taekwoon's always felt alienated. It's not foreign to him, the emotion of feeling alone. He's used to it by now. He doesn't quite mind. He can't handle large crowds, anyway. Can't handle more than two people at a time. He'd only had Wonshik back at his old school and it was great. More than he could ask for. Which is why he declines Jaehwan's offer to eat lunch with him and some guys named Seokjin and Junghwan. He has a feeling that they'd be a pretty loud bunch, considering how loud he'd concluded Jaehwan to be from a single morning with him.

 The strange boy had quickly disappeared into the throng of students filing out of the classroom early on. Jaehwan looks at Taekwoon, who is still sitting at his desk, "Are you sure you don't wanna join us?"

 "I'm sure," Taekwoon says, and  Jaehwan shrugs, already on his way out the door.

 "I just hope you don't find the wrong crowd, Taekwoon," he says. He closes the door behind him. Taekwoon looks at the lunch on his table, packed inside a paper bag. He contemplates just eating here.

 But there's something about the idea of eating lunch all alone in an old classroom that weirds him out, so he ultimately just stands anyway, walks out of the classroom in search of somewhere to eat.

 He finds the rooftop after a few minutes of walking around. It's empty of anyone, the painstakingly maintained benches left unused, except for a single one where the strange boy is.

 Taekwoon gapes. Well, they're just bumping into each other, aren't they?

 The boy looks lonely, and something about him is drawing Taekwoon in, which is ridiculous, really. Not a lot of people interest Taekwoon. Wonshik had been a rare exception, and that was only because he'd kept spewing out references to the bands and artists and writers that Taekwoon likes. But now, this boy here avoids Taekwoon and straight up tells him not to talk to him, and whereas Taekwoon would have usually been relieved, he finds himself curious instead.

 So he brings his little paper-bag-packed lunch over to where the stranger is sitting and looking at the view from his place in the rooftop. Taekwoon places his food on the table and sits across him, and the stranger turns.

 He still looks as scared as he had earlier, and he says, "Please don't follow me around," in the same small voice. It sounds shaky. Taekwoon takes the lunchbox out of the paper bag.

 "I wasn't. You just happened to be here," he says lightly, not looking up. He takes the lid off his Tupperware and smiles down at his food. Ah, glorious food. "And I thought you didn't want to talk,"

 "Right," says the boy, and he shifts in his seat and starts staring out again. It's silent, far too silent. The boy doesn't speak a word. Taekwoon doesn't, either; he just keeps on eating. Nobody talks.

 "You're different," Taekwoon starts, surprising the student sitting across him and even himself. The student blinks and doesn't look at Taekwoon at all, "You go out of your way to tell people you don't want to talk to them. That's... new,"

 "Not really,"  the boy says in a quiet voice. Taekwoon puts food in his mouth, chews, swallows. He's surprised that he's even talking to this stranger, even more surprised that the stranger is talking back.

 "You're kind of like me," Taekwoon says, and maybe this is why the boy draws him in so much.

 The boy glances up, just once, just for a moment, meeting Taekwoon's eyes for a fleeting few seconds. "Not really," he says, voice somehow smaller than ever before. He stands up and puts his untouched boxed lunch back in his backpack and turns away from Taekwoon so he can lean against the railing that lines the edges of the rooftop.

 Taekwoon finishes his food. He cleans up and stands, glances at the boy, and leaves. The boy doesn't follow.

 

 

 When Taekwoon returns to the classroom, a few of his classmates are already there. He places his bag down on his desk and lightly taps Jaehwan's shoulder. Jaehwan turns around, beaming, "Yes, Taekwoonie?" and Taekwoon tries not to shudder in distaste at the nickname.

 "Who's that boy," he asks, though, his curiosity taking over. Jaehwan squints at him in confusion. Taekwoon elaborates, "The quiet kid. Pale skin. Dimples?" he hates having to ask people questions, but this time he'll let it slide for the sake of quenching his curiosity. It's consuming him to the point where it aches.

 Jaehwan's face immediately grows serious, and for a moment, Taekwoon regrets asking the question. Jaehwan says, "I should have warned you about him," with a shake of his head. "It's always the new students. The same happened with Sanghyukkie..."

 "Who?" Taekwoon asks, the burning need for answers only growing. Jaehwan sighs. He looks tired, sad.

 "Hyukkie. He went here a couple years ago, had to transfer because of bullying," Jaehwan says, looking down, refusing to meet Taekwoon's eyes, and that's when it hits him. Oh. So the strange boy is a victim. He should've known, really. Should've figured it out. There's something Jaehwan isn't saying, Taekwoon can tell, but this will do. For now.

 "What's his name," Taekwoon  presses on anyways, and Jaehwan looks stunned for a moment before mumbling out a name, voice so low Taekwoon has to strain to catch what he'd said.

 "Hongbin," Jaehwan says, "Stay away from him."

 "Hongbin," Taekwoon repeats. Jaehwan nods and shakes himself out of the strange mood he'd gotten into, smiling brightly at Taekwoon now.

 "Anyways, eat lunch with us tomorrow! It'll be fun,"

 An awkward coil of nerves ties itself into knots in Taekwoon's stomach. "I'll... try to make it," he says, and Jaehwan grins and nods as he slides back into his (Taekwoon's former) seat. Taekwoon sits down. He sees Hongbin enter the classroom for the corner of his eye, sees him walk to the seat next to Taekwoon without a word.

 

 

 Taekwoon, no matter how hard he tries to deny it, has a soft spot. A very big soft spot. And it seems that Hongbin fits right into that certain soft spot. Maybe it's why Taekwoon finds himself heading to the rooftop at lunch the next day, blowing Jaehwan and company off again, hoping Hongbin will be up there eating his food or staring out into the distance.

 Taekwoon also (and he swears to God, he will deny this to his dying day) yearns for friendship, yearns for comfortable camaraderie. He doesn't want a group of friends, doesn't want people that come and go, doesn't want someone that mingles too much. No, he wants someone who can understand him, stay with him; he wants something he knows he will be compatible with. Maybe that's why he can't help but smile a tiny smile upon seeing Hongbin on the same table, why he sits down before him once again.

 Hongbin says, "Why don't you go eat lunch with Jaehwan?" He doesn't look at Taekwoon when he does, and Taekwoon doesn't answer immediately, having to stop and swallow for a moment.

 "Because I want to eat here," Taekwoon says simply. He glances up. Hongbin looks down. He nibbles at the half-eaten sandwich in his hands. "It's quiet here. I like quiet."

 Hongbin says nothing for a while. Taekwoon hadn't really expected him to.

 "Shouldn't Jaehwan have warned you about me by now?" he asks. "You shouldn't talk to me."

 Taekwoon drinks from his water bottle, wipes leftover droplets off with the back of his hand, "What. Are they gonna call me names?" he shrugs. He's used to it. But Hongbin winces. Taekwoon doesn't blame him, really. Taekwoon can see Hongbin looking everywhere but nowhere at once, nervous and jumpy.

 Hongbin whispers, "They'll call you a freak,"

 "It's nothing I've never heard before."

 Hongbin looks shocked when he looks up and meets Taekwoon's eyes, and Taekwoon can see the fear inside of them, can see the uncertainty and distrust and concern mixing and colliding and stirring. He bites his lip, "Why are you so intent on talking to me?" he asks, playing with the plastic wrap of his sandwich. Taekwoon hums.

 "I. I don't know myself,"

 It's the truth. He doesn't understand it. It's a first for him, actively approaching someone into friendship like this. Even with Wonshik he hadn't been nearly as stubborn. Taekwoon moves his kimchi around with his chopstick. "I just want a friend, I guess."

 "But why me?"

 Taekwoon notices that Hongbin isn't flat out ignoring him, at least, and he counts it as a win, as progress. Taekwoon shrugs. He doesn't really have an answer to that. Maybe it's because he feels like he can relate to Hongbin, maybe it's because he feels like he and Hongbin can be compatible, he and Hongbin can be actual friends.

 Hongbin looks down all over again. "I don't need your pity."

 Taekwoon's head snaps up, and he can't help but scowl, a little offended. "I'm not offering you pity. I'm offering you friendship."

 Hongbin looks moved.

 Taekwoon holds out a hand, "My name is Jung Taekwoon, nice to meet you." He even tries to smile, even if he hasn't really smiled in a while, asides from the little upward tugging of his lips earlier. Hongbin looks at Taekwoon's outstretched hand, hesitant, contemplating, and Taekwoon knows he'll say yes. Because the human mind is weak, and deep down inside, everyone aches for a friend, and it'll only take a little push for someone to give in to that ache.

 Goodness knows Taekwoon already has.

 Hongbin takes it. His hands are breaking out in cold sweat, from nerves and anxiety and slight fear.

 "Lee Hongbin," he says, and he looks up at Taekwoon, and Taekwoon can see that he's smiling, really smiling, for the first time since he'd first seen Hongbin sitting on the stairs with the camera in hand. It's breathtaking, to say the least, because while he isn't beaming, while his smile isn't as bright or as wide as Jaehwan's, it's sincere and grateful, dimples popping on the skin of his cheeks.

 "I hope," Hongbin says, "I hope you don't regret this,"

 

 

 

 When Taekwoon goes to the rooftop on lunch the next day, Hongbin greets him with a soft smile. He's timid, quiet, and he picks on his food a little bit, but Taekwoon finds that the silence isn't as stifling as it had been before.

 They don't speak much; Taekwoon thinks the both of them are just quieter, by nature, bit it's a nice, peaceful kind of silence, like the tranquility of sitting outside when the night is silent and the stars are out and the breeze is just the right type of cool.

 It's a start.

 

 

 

 The first time Taekwoon sees Hongbin somewhere that isn't the classroom or the hallways or the classroom is about a month after they'd started talking, in the library. He sees Hongbin on the other side of a bookshelf, past hardbound mystery books, trailing his fingers across the covers and frowning in thought. Hongbin doesn't seem to have noticed him, though, too busy skimming past titles and blurbs.

 Taekwoon sees a book that he'd read, a book that he very much likes, and he reaches over to take it so he can maybe suggest it to Hongbin, but when he tries to take it, someone's also pulling from the other side.

 Hongbin blinks, eyes wide, "Oh. Do you want to read it?" He's embarrassed. His cheeks are just the faintest shade of pink. Taekwoon can feel him pull his hand away from the book, and Taekwoon shakes his head. He takes it from the shelf and slides it across, over the other books, so Hongbin can have it.

 "I actually wanted to recommend it," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "It's a good read."

 Hongbin giggles and ducks his head, "Thank you, but I've already read it," he takes the book anyway, gliding the pad of his thumb across the cover. "So many times."

 "A favorite?"

 Hongbin looks up in excitement, "Yes!" he says, before looking down, cheeks flushed, "I mean. Yeah. I really like it."

 He's cute, Taekwoon thinks. Really fucking cute. He walks to the other side of the shelf, and Hongbin meets him halfway, and Hongbin smiles.

 "Let's read there," Hongbin says, pointing to the back of the library, hidden behind other shelves and stacks of books. Taekwoon feels himself nod, feels Hongbin's hands wrap around his wrist as he tugs Taekwoon along. The sit with their backs pressed against the wall and their shoulders pushed together, sandwiched between the corner of the library and a pile of books.

 Hongbin opens the book and Taekwoon leans just a little bit so he can read.

Taekwoon wakes up a little later. He chastises himself; he hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. Hongbin's still reading, and when he feels Taekwoon shift and sit up, bones aching and muscles sore, rubbing his eyes drowsily, he smiles and giggles a little bit.

 "You dozed off," Hongbin tells him. Taekwoon blinks and yawns.

 "I figured," he mutters.

 Hongbin laughs again, "You're like a cat," he says, and when Taekwoon blindly and halfheartedly swings his arm to hit him (a light hit, of course!) Hongbin catches his wrist.

 For some reason, Taekwoon's heart is beating really, really hard in his chest. He looks up at Hongbin, gentle and carefree in the way he's slowly grown to be ever since he and Taekwoon started talking. Hongbin who looks like he's about to-

 "Kitty," Hongbin says playfully before he lets go. "The library is almost closing, come on."

 The librarian gives them both a strange look when they pass by, and Taekwoon shifts a little, uncomfortable. Hongbin takes his hand and pulls him along again and, oh.

 His heart is beating kinda fast again.

 

 

 Taekwoon feels the shift, of course. The change that occurs as he keeps talking to Hongbin. His classmates talk to him less; they regard him with a steely, guarded look in their eyes, and they shift away from him. Jaehwan looks at him, sad, forlorn, and he shakes his head at Taekwoon and mumbles, "I'm sorry. I can't talk to you anymore,"

 They've weighed him on their little weighing scale of worth, they'd looked him up and down and dissected and evaluated him, and they'd deemed him as someone they don't want to be associated with, by any means possible. Taekwoon may claim that  he's used to it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

 He catches whispers, too, sometimes, mumbles of "Not again," and, "History likes repeating itself, doesn't it," and a name. A name he's heard from Jaehwan before. Sanghyuk.

 Hongbin sits next to Taekwoon on the rooftop, Taekwoon's hand in his, Hongbin massaging his palm. "I'm sorry you have to go through all this," he mutters. "You can stop talking to me, you know." Taekwoon doesn't say anything. Hongbin sighs and lets go, looking at his own hands, trying to think of something to say. He stands up suddenly, and Taekwoon's eyes follow him as he paces, until Taekwoon reaches forward and grabs him by the hand. Hongbin looks stunned.

 "I could," Taekwoon says. But he doesn't want to. The rest don't matter as much to him as Hongbin does, even if his feelings do hurt a bit whenever they ignore him or call him names. Hongbin... Hongbin makes him feel warm, makes him feel excited. Happy. He can't quite put a name on it, "But I don't want to."

 Hongbin's quiet.

 Taekwoon pulls him closer until they're sitting next to each other again. Taekwoon hums, satisfied. He doesn't mind this, he realizes. He doesn't mind that the others are calling him names, doesn't mind that no one else really wants to talk to him. He doesn't mind because he has this. He has Hongbin to spend time with, Hongbin to talk to, Hongbin to laugh with and read with and.

 He has Hongbin to fall in love with.

 Oh.

 So his classmates weren't the only ones who had changed, then. Taekwoon had changed, too. Had become happier. Had realized how it is to bring your own walls down, little by little, trust someone completely. Had fallen in love.

 Oh.

 He has no idea how to feel about this, and he has no idea how Hongbin will react, so he keeps his mouth shut.

 Hongbin squeezes his hand.

 "I just don't want the whole Sanghyuk fiasco to happen again,"

 That name again. Now slipping from Hongbin's own lips. Taekwoon looks up, interested, and he can't stop himself from asking who exactly this Sanghyuk person is. Hongbin bites his lip, shifts in his seat, looks down.

 "He was a friend," is all he says, tugging his hands away, and Taekwoon mourns the loss. "A transferee, too. He talked to me. Lost his friends." he suddenly rummages in his bag, brings out the old camera that Taekwoon hasn't seen ever since his first day here. Hongbin hasn't brought it out anywhere near Taekwoon recently. He turns it on and presses a few buttons, hands it over to Taekwoon.

 He'd opened a picture of someone. A boy. Large smile, eyes crinkled to tiny little moons. "He was here a couple years ago," Hongbin mumbles. Taekwoon presses the _next_ button again and again. There are so many pictures. People, animals, landscapes, random buildings and objects, but...

 "You don't have any of yourself," Taekwoon says, an observation. Hongbin shrugs.

 "What's the point," he says, taking the camera back.

 

 

 "Taekwoon," Hongbin says three days later, and Taekwoon turns, but Hongbin says, "Cheese!" and then snaps a photo, and Taekwoon's cheeks burn beet red.

 "Delete that!" he says, scowling, willing his heart to please slow down just a little bit, and Hongbin laughs, swiftly putting the camera away. Taekwoon scowls and huffs, and Hongbin grins.

 Taekwoon loves the moments when Hongbin's just like this, allowing himself to let go, to laugh and have fun and be himself. He takes a sip from his juice box, offering a few to Hongbin, who looks at it for a menu before shaking his head in refusal.

 "Sure?" Taekwoon asks. Hongbin nods and looks away, looks out like he always does.

 "The sunset's really nice," Hongbin says, a little breathless. There's a smile on his face, and the way the light falls on him makes him look like he's glowing in some muted gold shine.

 Well, Hongbin isn't the only one who has had his breath stolen away. The butterflies are there, stirring up a storm in Taekwoon's stomach, and Taekwoon rips his gaze away from Hongbin so he can look at the aforementioned sunset.

 And it really is beautiful.

 The way the sun sinks into the horizon, paints the azure of the late afternoon sky with pinks and oranges and soft purples. Hongbin takes out his camera again.

 Snap.

 "To remember today," Hongbin says.

 Taekwoon frowns. "Let's just take a selca," he says, rummaging from his phone, but Hongbin stops him.

 "It's fine, Taekwoon,"

 Taekwoon frowns, but Hongbin only pulls Taekwoon's hand away from his pocket and smiles, looking out again.

 

 

 Taekwoon hisses as he presses ice onto his skin, treating the bruise blooming on his arm. He sinks against the bed of the school clinic and Hongbin watches on from the bed across him. He hasn't said a word, but Taekwoon has an idea of what's going on inside his head.

 "This is my fault," Hongbin says, swinging his legs, "I told you, you shouldn't have gotten so close to me,"

 "Hongbin," Taekwoon says, his voice soft. He grimaces at the sting of ice against skin.

 "I shouldn't have let you talk to me," Hongbin goes on, lips pressed into a thin line, large doe eyes glossing over. "I shouldn't have fucking talked to you-"

 "I chose this, Hongbin," Taekwoon says firmly, but Hongbin only bites his lip and looks at him. His hands are shaking. He's on the verge of tears.

 "You got hurt because of me," he says. Taekwoon says nothing to that, because he knows Hongbin already knows what Taekwoon wants to say. What he's been saying for the past six months now. That he wanted to be friends with Hongbin- wants to stay friends.

 Hongbin stands and looks away. "I don't think we should talk anymore."

 "Are we back to this, again?"

 "Taekwoon, this is for your own good!" Hongbin nearly shouts, his hands clenched at his sides. "We can't be friends. They'll shun you. They'll escalate,"

 "Do I look like I care?" Taekwoon snaps, and Hongbin flinches. He doesn't turn around, but he doesn't look away, and for now, that's enough for Taekwoon. Hongbin takes a deep breath, and Taekwoon stands, placing the ice bag on top of the first aid kit.

 "You should care," Hongbin says, nearly sobbing. "I'm doing this for you."

 Taekwoon  puts his hands on Hongbin's shoulders and turns him around so that they're face to face, tilting his head up when Hongbin tries to look away. Hongbin's eyes are shining and wet, and tears are running down his cheeks. Taekwoon wipes one away. Another salty drop rolls down.

 He doesn't quite know how it happens, but the next thing he knows is that he's kissing Hongbin, lips soft, kiss sweet and chaste, and Hongbin's frozen for a moment or two until he slips away and closes his eyes and-

 Breaks apart, stumbling back so quickly he nearly falls. "What was that?" he asks, his voice quivering, hand moving up so they can ghost over his lips.

 "I think I love you,"

 And it's out. The truth. Taekwoon keeps his gaze firm, steady, even if his insides are jelly because of his own confession. Hongbin's eyes widen, and he steps back a little more.

 "You, you what?"

 "I'm in love with you," Taekwoon says, louder this time. Hongbin shakes his head and looks down at his hands.

 "No," he says, over  and over again, "No, no, no. You can't be. You can't."

 "Why not?" Taekwoon asks, stepping closer, "Why can't I?" and Hongbin looks up again, and Taekwoon's reminded of how he'd looked when they first met, the fear and sadness and worry in his eyes.

 "You just can't," he says finally, turning around and running out, far too quickly for Taekwoon to grab.

 When Taekwoon gets out of the resting area, the nurse regards him with a strange mix of sadness and pity. Taekwoon ignores it.

 

 

 Hongbin's seat is empty. Taekwoon can't help but glance at it, every once in a while. The teacher's saying something about the alumnus visiting them today, for whatever reason. Some person named Cha Hakyeon. That's all Taekwoon had been able to catch, before he'd stopped paying attention altogether, looking down at the empty notebook page.

 The whole class is abuzz, because apparently Cha Hakyeon is Someone Important, and Someone Hot as well. Taekwoon can't really bring himself to care. He spaces out and worries over Hongbin until the lunch bell rings, and then he watches everyone leave the classroom, eager.

 Someone knocks on his table and Taekwoon looks up. Jaehwan. Jaehwan purses his lips and shifts, looking around uncomfortably. "Will you, do you wanna eat lunch with us later on?" he asks. Taekwoon glances at Hongbin's empty seat, thinks for a moment.

 "Yeah. Sure," he says, "I'll try to make it."

 Jaehwan smiles tightly and nods. "See you then," he says, before leaving. Taekwoon picks his lunch up, decides he'll have to check the rooftop first. Maybe Hongbin had just skipped.

 

 

 Hongbin isn't there.

 Cha Hakyeon is, though, standing at the spot where Hongbin always is, hands on the railing. Something about this infuriates  Taekwoon, because this is a sacred place in a way, somewhere special for him and Hongbin.

 So Taekwoon walks closer and asks, "What are you doing here?"

 Hakyeon turns.

 He's graceful as a swan, moves like he's dancing. He smiles at Taekwoon, warm and amicable. "Hello," he says, "Taekwoon, wasn't it?"

 "Yes," Taekwoon says. He doesn't want to repeat his question again. Fortunately, Hakyeon seems to catch this, because he smiles and walks nearer to Taekwoon.

 "I was paying my respects," Hakyeon says. His voice reminds Taekwoon of silk. Smooth and pleasant. He holds himself up with liquid confidence; not vain, but rather at peace with himself.

 Taekwoon still isn't comfortable with him, though. He frowns, resists the urge to narrow his eyes, "Respects for... what?"

 The smile falls off Hakyeon's face. He looks at the railing with a sad sigh, and Taekwoon can't help but feel like he's gone too far. Hakyeon shakes his head, though, and looks at Taekwoon again. He sits on the bench where Taekwoon and Hongbin always sit, and pats the spot next to him. Taekwoon sits.

 "My best friend died here," Hakyeon says softly, mournfully. "Fifteen years ago. He fell."

 Something in Taekwoon's stomach drops. Heavy. Uncomfortable. He shifts in his seat. "I'm sorry." and Hakyeon smiles, sad.

 "You know," Hakyeon starts, hoisting himself up again, "You would've gotten along, if you'd met." he licks his lips and looks at the view, the view that Taekwoon had come to appreciate: sky and trees and buildings, and the bustling streets of Seoul. "You're the sort of person Hongbin would've liked."

 Taekwoon stills, "Pardon?"

 But Hakyeon is already walking away.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svebHG7qEXc) song
> 
> uwah i hope it was alright ahahah. post comments/leave kudos if you wanna, they make my day ahah.
> 
> //edit, 5/30
> 
> i felt like i had to add a little note in case anyone got confused ahahah. i do admit that there's a little bit of a plothole (i.e. why would the students bully taekwoon because he was talking to a dead ghost) but there are two possibilities why that happens
> 
> first off is that the students don't really "believe" in hongbin's existence despite ghost stories, school lore, and the stories sanghyuk had told them about hongbin (i _may_ write something about that someday, but dont quote me on that), and jaehwan may have just been taking an educated guess about hongbin even though it could have not been hongbin at all. they may have just assumed sanghyuk and hongbin were just sick in the head, in the end.
> 
> the second possibility is that they _have_ figured out that hongbin does indeed exist, but they're just a little scared, since they don't quite understand this phenomenon, and humans, being humans, tend to drive away those that scare them, as well as act out in many other ways when afraid. as it is, it's mostly just a mixture of fear, lack of understanding, hatred (to an extent, since we tend to hate what we fear as well) and mob mentality.
> 
> anyways that's all ahahah i hope you have a good night and good morning, and i hope it was decent!~
> 
> nyx out~


End file.
